Many of the characters within this story, and the universe they inhabit, are the intellectual property of Jason Katims Productions.
Roswell: Re-Imagined
Written by Horatio Jaxx
Chapter 60: Thursday Afternoon
The sun was nearly directly overhead, brightly glowing in a light blue sky streaked with shear white clouds high up in the distance. The Roswell Fourteen had been hiking through the wilderness southwest of the city for the past five hours, pausing only long enough to take a drink, wipe the seat from their brows or catch their breath. They had been walking in a line for the most part. Michael's eagerness to find the phantom that had been haunting their dreams for the past ten years kept him in the lead. However, that position was easily interchangeable between any of them. They all had the location of the whispering rock firmly fixed in their heads. It was as if they were intimately familiar with the terrain. They all surmised that the merge between the fourteen of them reassembled a memory that only existed in their collective mind. That belief also felt like a reassembled memory.
It was half past one in the afternoon when the Roswell Fourteen took their first significant break. The shade provided by the overhang of a large rock as big as a bus was an inviting location for a rest. The group took to sitting on any semi flat surface they could find beneath its shadow. Most sat on the ground. Despite the look of ease, they were presenting, the fourteen were on their guard against being seen by anyone on the ground or in the air. Most among them were watchful for the obvious signs of men and machine. Max was more concerned about what could be out there that they would likely not see. He feared being seen and not knowing it. He knew if that happened all fourteen of them could walk into a trap.
Max gave little attention to the ground. So long as their pursuers did not know what vicinity they were in or in which direction they went, he suspected that a search party was several days away from producing any results. That thinking was based on his calculation that a search on foot would require far more men than what the OSI or Holloman had to do an effective search in the short term. And he suspected that ground vehicles and low flying aircraft would be seen and heard before their occupants spotted them. He could see that most among them were giving close attention to just this type of threat.
What Max thought was most likely to spot them without their knowing it was a high-flying aircraft that had telescopic visual equipment onboard with infrared capability. Because of his worry about that, he spent his rest period searching the sky in minute detail, and he was not the only one. Aaron had his eyes on the sky as well, but it was Max who first saw the distant speck that looked to be barely moving in the sky.
"There," Max exclaimed with a point.
All eyes looked up towards the patch of sky that Max was pointing to. Kyle retrieved a pair of binoculars from his backpack and examined the area of sky where Max was pointing.
"It's a Predator Drone," Kyle reported. "It's moving past us. So, I don't think it has seen us yet."
"Get out of the shade," Max quickly ordered.
Everyone obeyed his command without thinking twice about it. They all knew that their heat signatures would stand out beneath the shade of the rock. Because of that, they all ran around to the side that was baking under the sun. Each of them laid prone and still against the slant of the rock in the hope that their heat signatures would blend in with it. They stayed in that position for nearly three minutes as they watched the drone disappear above the horizon. At the end of that time, they returned to the shade and stayed there for another ten minutes with all eyes now searching the sky. They set off for their destination now convinced that there was nothing in the air close enough to see them.
LINE BREAK
"Where are the parents?" Ryan questioned the MP who was driving the vehicle he was in.
The MP had no idea who the parents were. In fact, he knew very little about what was going on. The best that he could discern from all that was happening was that General Pittman was looking for someone.
"The civilians they brought in," the MP began with an inflection of confusion, "are locked up, Sir."
"Locked up?" Ryan questioned back in a voice full of shock.
"Ah … yes sir," the MP responded with a touch of fear that he said the wrong thing. "They're being detained in dorm rooms."
Ryan gave the MP a moment of fierce study before turning his attention straight ahead. He did not care for the idea of the parents of the Roswell Fourteen being treated in that fashion. He felt he understood them more than anyone else. He knew that these teenagers were their children, regardless of whatever else they might be. And above all else, he believed they had a right to know what was happening. It was five minutes after four in the afternoon when the vehicle he was in came to a stop in front of the hangar that served as General Pittman's Command and Control Center. He jumped quickly out of the car and strode briskly through the hangar door that was promptly opened by the MP guarding it. Inside Ryan stopped to visually scan the bustle of activity going on inside.
"Major," General Pittman called out to him in a loud voice.
Ryan turned towards the sound and saw the General finish a wave of his arm that signaled he should come to him. He quickly complied with the request by walking over to where the General was standing. Situated in front of General Pittman was, what looked to be, four elaborate game consoles. Each station had seven monitors. The largest one was bigger than the other six combined. It was situated above the others and was obviously there for the convenience of spectators. Sitting in front of each station were two airmen. One was operating the flight controls and the other was the sensor operator. Ryan immediately recognized these as control stations for Predator Drones.
"We've got them, Major," General Pittman, greedily, exclaimed to Ryan in a hushed voice.
The General was concerned that they were not far enough away from ears that did not have clearance to hear their conversation, but he was too invested in what was happening to wait until they were alone. He did not turn his gaze away from the monitors as he spoke to Ryan. His attention flashed back and forth between the four large screens in front of him.
"Have we picked them up, sir?" Ryan questioned halfheartedly.
"No, but we will," General Pittman reported quickly with a sudden turn towards Ryan and an adamant point of his finger.
Ryan took that answer in with a slight feeling of relief.
"Secretary Drenning brought in the FBI," General Pittman continued in his hushed tone and with an upbeat inflection. "They've verified that that they did not leave Roswell last night by bus, train or air," he asserted with a hint of a smile. "They're still here, Major, and we're going to get them," he insisted as he turned his attention back to the monitors.
Ryan suspected the General was right about that. He knew that if the Roswell Fourteen was still in the city, then it was just a matter of time before they were found. And if they were in the desert, they would likely find them even sooner. That was an event that he thought was inevitable, and he accepted that from the beginning. He told himself it was his job to secure these individuals, and he did his best to remain detached about their fates. He intellectually understood that what happened to them after they were captured was not his portion of the plan for the Roswell Fourteen. He reminded himself of that once again, and then he accepted it with a silent sigh of regret.
"What are your plans for the parents, sir?" Ryan whispered at General Pittman.
"The parents are contained," General Pittman returned without looking away from the screens.
"Has anyone told them about their kids?" Ryan whispered at General Pittman's ear.
"No, the parents haven't been told anything." General Pittman answered gruffly and under his breath.
Ryan understood that disclosing the truth about the Roswell Fourteen to the parents was always part of the plan. No one could see a way around that. Because of that, he never envisioned a time when the parents would be detained without explanation. Knowing that was happening at this moment gave him reason to be concerned for them. He could see in General Pittman a complete lack of regard for the parents.
"I thought we were going to disclose everything to the parents after we collected them?" Ryan questioned with a confused inflection.
"That plan went out the window when you failed to grab their kids," General Pittman returned sternly as he studied the monitors. "Without those teenagers we have no leverage to prevent them from going public."
"With all due respects, sir, but yes we do," Ryan calmly countered.
"Explain, Major," General Pittman commanded with a sharp look towards him.
"Their kids are hunted fugitives," Ryan responded as though he was stating the obvious. "If they go public now, they'll be bringing every law enforcement agency in the country in on the search for them."
General Pittman was visibly intrigued by that logic. He gave Ryan a brief ponderous look before deciding on a response.
"I like that, but there's no hurry on it," General Pittman began after turning his attention back onto the screens. "Besides, if I'm right we'll have those teenagers before the day is over."
"Do we know that they're in the desert, sir?" Ryan questioned after a brief study of the monitors.
General Pittman did not even flinch in response to that question. His eyes continued to scan the monitors in front of him as he gave his reply.
"The backpack, the water canteens, the hats, where else could they have been going?"
"Don't you find that a little strange, sir?" Ryan suggested with a pondering inflection.
General Pittman became mildly annoyed with Ryan's suggestion that something was amiss. He tired of the Major's whine about the parents and wanted to know what he was hinting at.
"Strange how, Major? General Pittman asked with an irritated squint.
"Well, they had access to vehicles," Ryan began with a puzzled shrug. "If they had used them, they could have been halfway across Texas by the time we discovered them missing."
"Tracking down their vehicles would have been even easier than this," General Pittman retorted with a point to the monitors.
"They could have ditched them and switched to new vehicles," Ryan continued to reason out. "Or they could have jumped on a train, or a bus somewhere down the line," he speculated off the top of his head.
"Where are you going with this, Major?" General Pittman asked with a stern look towards Ryan.
"I just think it's strange that Kenneth Burton came back to Roswell after being away for ten years," Ryan began with an introspective look. "These kids were placed here in Roswell, including Kenneth Burton. There has to be a reason for that. Something must be holding them here. If we find out what that is, then we might find out where they're going."
By the end of this statement General Pittman was infected with the same suspicion. He rolled the idea over in his mind for several seconds before coming back to Ryan for assistance.
"Where do you think they're going?"
"I don't know," Ryan returned with a shake of his head. "But their parents might."
"The parents don't know anything," General Pittman contradicted.
"We don't know that, sir," Ryan calmly countered.
General Pittman took a minute to think about what Ryan was suggesting. He then spoke the question that his contemplation produced.
"And you think they'll tell us?"
"I think they'll do whatever they can to protect their children," Ryan retorted definitively.
General Pittman pondered that statement for a few seconds before nodding his head in agreement.
"Okay."